


Looking Inside

by dhania



Series: New Normal [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, Family, Family Secrets, Gen, Growing Up, Pre-Canon, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24511045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhania/pseuds/dhania
Summary: Part 2 of the New Normal series.The sides continue to learn about each other, and grow.
Series: New Normal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758253
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	1. Calm

“—so then, he didn’t start whining about not wanting to go on the hover-ships. I don’t even know why Creativity _has_ hover-ships, because most of the Imagination isn’t set in a medieval setting. But he doesn’t, and that’s how we didn’t have our first camping trip. Oh! Did I mention Fear didn’t hiss at me? Like, _just_ because I didn’t ask him if he was okay! We even ate s’mores—”

Rage, if he hears anything I’m saying, doesn’t show it. He was curled up in his bed when I found him, his breathing ragged. Heart always starts talking a lot whenever Rage is like this, so I thought I should do the same. I’m not sure he finds the same comfort in _my_ voice as does in Heart’s, but I’ve been pushing Heart to take turns in taking care of the wandering Sides, so that’s what I’m going to do.

After a few more minutes of Rage only ignoring my presence, I sigh. Okay. This is obviously not working.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

I sit on Rage’s bed.

He stiffens.

“Rage,” I say, in my most soothing voice. Okay, Heart would have been hugging Rage or something by now. Which I’m not going to be doing. “Talk to me. Please.”

I kick my legs absently, trying to make my body relax, so Rage doesn’t think I’m terrified of him. That’s probably not going to help him calm down. I mean, I’ve gotten more used to Hate and Rage over the past couple of weeks. But still. Every time we come in, Rage’s broken something else, and Hate’s unfocused eyes and insistent speeches haven’t put me at ease.

“Heart’s worried about you.” I say, straining to tell the truth. “So please. Come on.”

I close my eyes, counting Rage’s breaths. They haven’t calmed at all since I started talking. Maybe I should go get Heart.

“I could hurt you.”

I jolt, not expecting for him to answer.

He rarely talks.

“Of _course_ you wouldn’t hurt me,” I say, turning around, struggling to keep my voice calm. “You never have.”

“Can’t… control myself. Sometimes, I just see red.”

I’m shocked, at the pure _agony_ in Rage’s voice.

Despite my better judgement, I’m turning around, throwing off Rage’s blanket.

He’s hugging himself, his eyes scrunched tightly shut, his nails digging into his arms and drawing blood.

He’s tightly coiled.

He always is, whenever we come in.

Is that… is that him trying to hold himself back from doing something? 

To _us?_

“Rage,” I’m muttering, prying at his fingers. “Sit up, Rage. Open your eyes. Please. Everything’s okay.”

He doesn’t respond, which only makes me more agitated.

“ _Rage_.” I snap, sharper than I should have.

He knocks my hands away, and then he’s curling into himself again.

“Rage, it’s okay to get mad.” I say. “It’s okay. So stop it. Stop hurting yourself, sit up, and _tell me what’s wrong._ ”

“ _It’s not okay to get mad!_ ”

I flinch, at how loud his voice is.

“I’m _bad!_ Heart _hates_ me! _That’s why I’m here!_ ”

Well, I would’ve agreed with him, if it wasn’t _him_ saying it, and in _this_ state on top of that.

I focus, and reach back to my room. I haven’t tried summoning objects all that much, but I only know one way to calm down, and it was because of Logic.

A book materializes in my hands, and I sigh, hugging the familiar weight to my chest.

“Do you like reading?” I ask, to which I obviously get no response. “I don’t know what you like, but there’s something I’m reading right now.”

.

“How did it go?” Heart chirps, bouncing on his bed a little. “Are they okay?”

“They were great,” I say, looking towards the lights twinkling on his ceiling. I smile at him. “I don’t think I found my own way to calm Rage down. He didn’t fall right to sleep when I started reading to him.”

“That’s awesome!” Heart grins, looking relieved. He stands up and hugs me tightly, and after a moment, I return the gesture. “Thanks for helping me with this.” He breathes, his voice brushing against my ear. “You know you don’t have to.”

“But I don’t want to.”

He giggles. “You’re amazing, Ly. You don’t know how much you mean to me.”

I feel my ears start to feel warm again, and unconsciously, my eyes drift to the photo of me on his wall, the one that had shocked me so much last time.

I gently push him away. “Shouldn’t we meet up with the others? They’re probably waiting for us.”

“They _are!_ ” Heart says, smiling. “Let’s go!”

.

Last week, Creativity brought up that the Imagination finally completed building a full amusement park. Of course, that meant Heart wanted us all to go check it out. 

“Oooh, I can’t wait!” Heart bounces, from his spot at the back of the bus.

Also, after the last time, Creativity’s thankfully learned how to make safer modes of transportation.

I think.

I mean, he made us a hover-bus. Which functions exactly like a bus. But it flies.

Fear is curled up at the back, Heart’s arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Logic is looking out the window, his eyes filled with wonder. Creativity is sitting at the steering wheel, looking too pleased with himself.

“I’m not getting flashbacks to the Magic School Bus.” I mutter.

“Oooh, Creativity loved that show!” Heart says.

“Can we go on adventures, then?” Creativity asks. “We can always ditch the— ”

“ _No_.” Fear and I snap.

I glance over my shoulder at him, but he’s still curled up, his head in his arms. I think he’s on the verge of getting physically sick. I want to feel sorry for him, but Creativity’s obviously trying.

The bus is pretty stable, and Creativity’s steering us without getting distracted. It feels safer than I’d think Creativity was capable of. I’m kind of awed he had it in him to care about the rest of us. He didn’t seem like the type.

I look out the window, too, at the amazing view below.

“What’s that?” Logic asks, and I see him pointing.

I strain to look over at what he’s seeing— there’s a… wall? It rises over some distant hills, the stone black and cracked.

“Probably not just another weird addition to the Imagination,” I shrug. Logic doesn’t respond, and I see him scrunching his brows again.

I look out the window, at the sprawling scenery.

Everything looks so… _real_. It’s amazing how big the Imagination is. I’m mostly curious about the streets below us— are they filled with people, like last time? How real are they? Are they based off of real people Thomas has met?

“We’re almost there!” Creativity announces.

I glance ahead, and see it. The huge arc of a ferris wheel glowing in the afternoon light, slowly rotating. There are the curves of roller coaster tracks and waterpark slides too.

“Did you recreate all of Disneyland or something?” I ask incredulously.

Creativity just cackles. “This is going to be _way_ better than Disneyland.”

The bus gently lands at the entrance, and we get out, waiting for Heart and Fear to follow. 

“The ride… wasn’t that bad,” Fear mutters, glancing at Creativity. “Thanks.”

Creativity practically glows at the praise. “Of course! A King knows how to look after his subjects! Onwards!”

The amusement park is only slightly crowded. There are people milling around, but not so much that it’s uncomfortable to move around in. I’m glad Creativity left out the throngs of people and the lines.

“Guys! The roller coaster first!” Creativity says, tugging at Logic’s hand. “Let’s go, let’s _go!_ ”

I glance at Fear, because if he can’t stand hover-ships, I’m doubting we should be piling onto a roller coaster first. But he’s smiling quietly, following the loops of the roller coaster with a glint in his eyes. Huh.

“Come on, you two,” Heart says, gently steering me after Creativity and Logic. He pauses. “Are you okay with roller coasters, Ly?”

I mean… not really. But if everyone else is getting on, I’m not going to watch from the ground.

“Of course not,” I say, and Heart grins.

“Let’s go!”

.

Both Heart and I sit out on the next ride.

Heart’s still in the bathroom, throwing up, and I draw my knees to my chest on the bench outside.

The ride hadn’t been too bad, but after getting on four times, I decided I needed a break. And Heart looked progressively sicker each time we got off, but he’d still grinned and gotten back on every time with the others. Until he couldn’t hold it in anymore and asked to go to the bathroom.

I laugh a little, at the memory. I think Logic just sat through the whole thing without a change in expression. Creativity and Fear, on the other hand, both had their hands up and were screaming the whole while, grinning wildly. I think they finally found something to bond over.

“Hey.”

I look up, and see Heart stumble out, still pale but smiling widely.

“That was— that was a ride, huh?” He chuckles, his voice a little hoarse. He clears his throat, still looking slightly disoriented. “Lets go join the others— ”

“We’re not doing the bumper cars next.” I say, and I swear Heart let out a sigh of relief.

.

“That was _cheating_ ,” Creativity’s pouting.

We just did the go-kart track. 

Hint: I beat Creativity in three out of five races.

“Jealous, Your Highness?” I ask, grinning.

“I don’t like you,” Creativity says, narrowing his eyes.

“They had lanes for a reason,” Fear is still grumbling. “Lanes and _rules—_ ”

“We’re in the Imagination!” Creativity protests. “None of that matters.”

“That could’ve been _dangerous!_ There were so many ways you could’ve— ”

“Stop _lecturing_. I was just having fun. If you got that stick out of your bu— ”

“Language,” Heart chides, cutting Creativity off. 

“Lets get on the Drop next,” Creativity grins, pointing at a tower, which has a circle of seats at the top. As we watch, the seats suddenly drop through the air, and Heart flinches. But then the seats slow to a stop at the bottom.

“Sweet,” Fear grins.

“How come you’re scared of the go-karts, but you can get on those types of rides?” Creativity asks, frowning.

“I trust those rides more than I trust you,” Fear shrugs.

I thought Creativity would get offended at that, but he just grins.

“Let’s go,” He says, dragging Heart along.

“Yeah,” Heart says, his voice weak.

I barely contain my grin, as I grab Heart’s other arm.

“Actually, can we sit this one out?” I say. “I want to get something to eat.”

Fear looks over, shrugging.

“Come on, nerd,” Creativity says, letting go of Heart’s arm and grabbing Logic’s instead. “Lets go have some fun!”

Heart waits with me, watching the others go on.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, when they’ve disappeared into the crowds.

I laugh. “You’re not welcome.”

.

We save the ferris wheel for last, since Heart suggested doing it at night would let us see the stars.

Logic’s practically glued to the windows, staring at the view around us. Even _I’m_ impressed, the sky’s really clear in the Imagination. We didn’t notice the stars the last time we were here, but tonight, it looks like we can watch the entire galaxy glitter above us.

“Thomas has never had such a clear view of the stars,” Logic breathes.

“It _is_ pretty amazing,” Fear agrees, his eyes transfixed above.

“The Dragon-Witch taught me some constellations!” Creativity announces proudly. “I can show you a few.”

“Which ones?” Logic asks, and his voice is almost a squeal.

I watch sympathetically, as Creativity squints at the sky, trying to map the stars before Logic points them out. _Never_ challenge Logic on… well, knowledge of anything. He makes it his purpose to understand _everything_.

But then Logic starts recounting the stories behind the constellations, and Creativity goes quiet, watching Logic with wide eyes, nodding along.

I hear a soft laugh, and notice Heart watching them, grinning. Even Fear’s listening to Logic ramble, and I settle into it all.


	2. Rumbling

I’ve become able to tell Thomas’s good days from his bad days.

On good days, Fear and Creativity eat with us. We eat meals together, we do game nights, we go on fun trips into the Imagination.

On bad days, Fear and Creativity don’t eat with us. Then, the mindscape is quieter.

It’s not all bad for me.

On both good and bad days, it’s fun spending time with the other Sides.

The only unpleasant thing about my new existence is all the lies I taste off of everyone. The constant ‘you are supposed to be  _ doing _ something about this’ thoughts. The stomach aches.

I get a  _ lot _ of stomach aches.

Everything is easier to ignore on Thomas’s good days.

.

On a day where my stomach aches get especially bad, I find myself standing in front of Creativity’s door.

I clutch his doorknob for support, panting from the effort it takes for me to keep standing.

I’m going to  _ kill _ him for this.

“What  _ did _ you put in that cookie?” I snap, half-annoyed because of the pain, and half-annoyed because it woke me up in the middle of the night. “Creativity, open the door! I don’t care what adventure you’re on, but if I have to put up with this a second— ”

The doorknob twists under my hand, and I stumble through, face-planting in wet grass.

I’m groaning and standing up, as thunder roars in the distance.

“You’re here.” Creativity says, and I look up, to see him sitting cross-legged on a hover-ship. “What did you say about cookies?”

I groan, wrapping my arms around my stomach.

“You don’t look so good.”

“You think?” I snap. “What did you put in that cookie?”

“Which one?”

“ _ The _ one! The  _ only _ one you gave me!”

“Oh that? Some frog slime, why?”

“ _ It’s making me sick _ .”

“...But that was months ago.”

“I know! So make it stop!”

“Are you listening to yourself?” He asks, and now I realize he’s sitting beside me. “I thought you knew this would happen. Isn’t that why you were wandering those Grey Hallways?”

My stomach gives a particularly painful throb, and I close my eyes, trying not to let out a whimper.

I fail.

“ _ What are you talking about? _ ” I bite out.

“It’s Heart. Of course you’re going to be in pain. Since Heart doesn’t like lying.”

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

‘You don’t know how much you mean to me, Ly.’

That had been the bitter truth.

But Heart  _ did _ say that he couldn’t control which Side he rejected.

I try to focus on Heart not liking lying, because that still means he likes  _ Lying _ , right?

“I get them too.” Creativity’s saying. “I’m pretty sure everyone does, at some point. Some of us more than the others.”

I don’t say anything to that, and he just quietly sits beside me.

Until the pain ebbs, until I can sit up again.

“How do I make them stop?”

He shrugs. “Make Heart like lying? Good luck with that. He’s obsessed with Thomas being a goodie goodie.”

I take in deep lungfuls of air, relishing the absence of pain.

Thunder rumbles somewhere above us again.

“Oh.” Creativity says. “The Dragon-Witch says hi.”

I give him a curious look. “Okay...”

I stand up to leave, and cast him a glance just before I do.

But he’s already hopping onto his hover-ship, and with a clap of his hands, the thing zooms away.

.

“It’s time for dinner!” Heart calls. “Are you both in there?”

Logic crosses the room and opens the door.

“Yes, we’re both here.” Logic says, glancing at me. “If you mean myself and Lying.”

Heart pokes his head through and smiles at me. “I hope you’re up for more oats, Ly.”

“What happened to lunch?” I say, standing up and stretching—  _ wow _ , my neck hurts from looking down and reading for so long.

That seems to be the wrong question, though, and Heart frowns. I panic a little bit, Creativity’s voice playing in my head. ‘ _ Heart doesn’t like lying _ .’

“I’m sorry.” Heart says. “It— I just forgot the time.”

“It’s not alright,” I say hurriedly. “We need to eat anyway.”

That seems to be the wrong response again, but Heart smiles. “Come on, kiddo. Lets go eat.”

.

I pick at my tasteless oats— the only meal Heart can make without burning the kitchen down, and so, the only meal Fear’s allowed him to make when no one’s around— and stew in the uncomfortable silence at the table.

Speaking of Fear, he’s not here again. Neither is Creativity. What a surprise to absolutely no one.

I glance up when Heart suddenly gets to his feet— 

“I’m actually going to have to go, kiddos. ” He says, looking from Logic to me frantically, his eyes wide with panic. “Uh, you guys have fun. Bye!”

He sinks out, leaving us staring at the spot where he’d been sitting.

I try to figure out why— Thomas is just trying to fall asleep in bed, what’s wrong with that?— and Logic just sighs.

“Do you know what’s going on?” I ask Logic, who gets up and grabs Heart’s half-eaten bowl of oats as he walks around the kitchen table to the sink.

“Thomas is re-playing some unpleasant memories,” Logic says, neutrally. “I don’t think it requires such a big reaction from Heart, but it may be connected to the negative emotions Fear is fighting, and Creativity going missing.”

He starts washing the dishes, as if he hadn’t just said something really important.

I stand up and grab his shoulders, turning him around to face me. He flinches, dripping water onto the kitchen tiles.

“Show me these memories.” I say.

He nods, slowly.

“Now?” I ask, wanting to yell at him to show me the memory  _ right this second _ but trying not to sound too forceful. He seems to understand the emotion I’d asked with anyway, and shrugs my hands off, taking a step back.

“There is no need to rush.” He says. “We can finish washing these bowls and then I’ll take you to the library.”

Dishes aren’t really important right now— we don’t even exist, I don’t know why the others  _ bother _ doing the dishes everyday when we could just snap our fingers and have them become clean— but Logic seems determined, and I don’t want to push him. So I just grab my bowl, throw out the remaining oats, and scrub it clean. Logic slowly joins in, washing his bowl out, and then Heart’s. Logic moves around the kitchen slowly, wiping his hands on a pair of towels hanging from the stove, drinking a glass of water, glancing at me repeatedly, and I just watch him, tapping my foot. Finally, he sighs.

“Lets go,” He says, and I grin, hurrying to follow him out of the kitchen.

The trip to the library doesn’t take as much time, today.

As soon as Logic throws open the doors, I hear loud voices, and look towards the low ceiling.

There’s a scene playing on there.

Thomas is stabbing the broccoli on his plate, pushing it around, and then stabbing it again. It’s lunch time, and Thomas and his friends are sitting together. As usual, Thomas is zoning out.

“What are you doing?” His friend, Brian, asks, suddenly. 

“Stabbing into the hearts of my enemies,” Thomas replies, swallowing a piece of broccoli while making a face.

“You are so  _ weird  _ sometimes.” Brian laughs, along with a few others.

The scene changes— I look at Logic, but he offers no explanation, just staring at the ceiling with a scowl.

Now, it’s a memory from a few weeks ago— Thomas is struggling through an underwater adventure with his friends, Pencilman and Eraser Boy (Creativity is terrible at naming things)— when, suddenly, the aquatic scene around him dissolves into staring classmates.

“— which page are we on?” Mrs. Finigal is saying.

“Uh.” Thomas says, glancing around, at all the eyes turned his way. “Page four?”

“Wrong.” Mrs. Finigal sighs. “Ryan, help Thomas open his book to the right page. And Thomas,  _ pay attention _ when I’m teaching. We are  _ in the classroom _ , and your focus should be on me right now. Save your fantasies for recess, okay?”

“Sorry,” Thomas mumbles, face reddening.

And then the scene is replaced again, before I realize it— this time, by Thomas trekking through hills oddly similar to the ones in the Imagination, where we’d had our picnic a few days ago. Thomas looks up at the orange sunset, where the faint shadow of something looms in the distance. Thomas nods, and pulls out his sword, readying himself for the oncoming creature.

The dragon comes closer and closer, a looming, dark shape, in front of him now.

Then he attacks, swishing the sword down— 

A scream rips through the scene, and Thomas’s concentration is broken.

He stares down at Shree, who’s on the playground floor, crying.

“Thomas hit me,” She says, when the other kids gather around.

“You hit a girl?” One of Thomas’s friends ask. “She wasn’t even playing with us!”

“What’s going on?” Mr. Ko is saying, coming over from where he’d been watching at the benches.

“Thomas hurt Shree!” Someone says, and Thomas is shaking his head, backing away, dropping the stick in his hand.

“Thomas.” Mr. Ko cuts in. “We need to have a word. In the classroom,  _ now _ .”

And then, the scene dissolves again, replaying another scene.

I grab Logic’s hand— he jumps— and I drag him out of the library.

“What’s happening?” I ask. “Are these memories why Creativity keeps disappearing?”

Logic nods. “Thomas has been getting in trouble for his impulsive behaviour and daydreaming for months now. The library has been replaying these same memories over and over again. It doesn’t help that Creativity always runs away into the Imagination whenever anything happens, which only makes Thomas daydream more. And then Thomas just feels more guilty when he comes back to reality.”

I’m so mad— I’m so mad that I’m  _ shaking _ .

I remember all of these memories, I’ve  _ been through _ all of them.

But I didn’t know how much they were affecting Thomas— how  _ dare _ everyone make Thomas feel like this?— when Thomas was able to imagine and see such amazing things? Just because everyone else was too busy being stuck in reality with their lacking creativities, didn’t make Thomas  _ bad _ . Kids are supposed to  _ enjoy  _ daydreaming, how else are they supposed to— 

I feel a touch on my shoulder, and I focus on Logic in front of me.

“Breathe,” Logic instructs. “Breathe in and out slowly.”

“Logic— ”

“ _ Breathe _ . There is no point in getting angry now. It’s not going to help anyone.”

I push out a breath from my lungs, trying to calm down. 

“When we reflect back on everything, I find the answer Thomas is searching for is simple.” Logic says, when I’m calmer and I don’t feel as red in the face. “Thomas needs to stop daydreaming.”

“ _ What? _ ” I snap, blood rushing to my face again.

Logic blinks at me, slowly. “If Creativity stops disappearing off into the imagination so often, we could focus on more productive things. Thomas could learn and do so much more— ”

Before I realize it, I’ve pushed Logic, and he stumbles back, falling to the floor.

“ _ Take their side _ ,” I hiss, pointing towards the doors of the library, where undoubtedly, another awful memory is playing out. “Thomas needs that right now! Creativity is something Thomas needs to feel ashamed of! He’s not  _ talented! _ And it’s not stupid that everyone else is making Thomas feel this way!”

“Creativity when used  _ productively _ is an amazing asset,” Logic says, scowling. “But all Thomas is doing now is running away from his problems. He’s just trying not to think of reality, when  _ that _ is the entire problem in the first place— it’s an endless loop.”

“ _ You _ — ” I struggle for words. 

_ This _ is what’s wrong.  _ This _ is what’s ruining everything and hurting everyone.  _ This _ is why Thomas has bad days. So how can Logic say all of this? We should all be  _ supporting _ each other!

“What?” Logic asks, starting to stand up. I shove him back down, and stand over him, glowering.

“This isn’t  _ your _ fault. You’re not making Thomas question himself.”

“I want to help Thomas as much as everyone else does,” Logic says, cold. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say. You’re not in the right mind to—”

“You’re not  _ Logic! _ ” I shout. “You— you’re not one of the most important Sides to Thomas! If  _ you _ don’t say things like Thomas is doing something wrong, Thomas won’t think the same way!”

His scowl deepens. “Are you attempting to place the blame of all of Thomas’s negative emotions on me right now? Is this because I’m opposed to Thomas daydreaming?”

“ _ No! _ ”

“ _ Falsehood _ .”

He gets to his feet, and I back away, wrapping my arms around myself, in case I lash out again.

“Thomas needs to grow up.” Logic says, slowly, deliberately.  _ He’s angry, _ I realize.  _ This is how Logic looks like when he’s mad _ . “I am not saying Heart needs to feel ashamed of Creativity.”

I almost correct him— what’s this about Heart? We’re talking about  _ Thomas _ — and then I realize my thoughts are wrong. Of course.  _ Heart _ decides who Thomas listens to. So when Logic mentioned before that Heart liked Creativity better than he liked him…

“I’m only saying that Heart should consider everyone else’s opinions as well.” Logic is saying. He looks at me for a moment— I’m trying to say something, but my thoughts are a mess, and I don’t know what to say— and he nods, as if confirming something. “You are not thinking clearly. I’m not sure you are willing to listen to reason. So I’m going to leave now.”

I scoff, watching him turn around and walk away.

His shoulders high, his back tense.

I sink out, to my room.

I need time to  _ think _ .


End file.
